For those of you who are keeping track, 2016 is an Olympic year. It’s a year in which we will frequently hear stories of athletic glory…and injury. Injuries that occur as a result of rigorous, repetitive, stressful training.
Yeah, I’m not included anywhere in the “athletic glory” camp. Nowhere near it. I’m somewhere on the other side of the world…in a dark corner of a small municipality, curled up with a book.
Unless “Reading” becomes an Olympic sport, I’ll never qualify for what most people view as the pinnacle of amateur athletic competition. If the IOC ever does add a reading contest, I can assure you that I’ll be going for the world record.
I’ve already taken care of the “injury” part, though.
Sort of.
Years of repetitive reading finally took their toll.
I broke a bookmark.
I travel with lots of books. I went out of town a couple of weeks ago, and I took lots of books with me, including the one in which this bookmark was temporarily residing. When I unpacked my books, the bookmark came out in two pieces.
Such a shame. It was a gift.
As the gamers among us might say, “nerd achievement unlocked.”
